Hello everyone!
I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to update this story; I've had a pretty busy semester at college, including writing my Senior Thesis, and I went through a period of feeling unmotivated to work on most of my fan fiction stories. But with only one semester left, and now being on break, I want to get back into the swing of things, working on my stories more and updating more frequently like I used to.
This chapter was fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it after such a long wait!
Chuck and Digger
After meeting the Turtles, I continued to help out Bebop and Rocksteady, while now carrying three modes of communications on my person: my cell phone, the burner phone the criminal pair had given me, and the Shell-Cell Mikey had given me. His warning about Bebop and Rocksteady always hung in the back of my mind, casting a shadow of fear and doubt whenever I got a message from the mutant thugs. However, between not wanting to upset them by suddenly dipping out on helping them and wanting to have continued free time away from the family restaurant, I did my best to push those thoughts aside. The two had kept their promise to not involve me in any criminal or dangerous activities, instead asking me to do menial tasks like cleaning their lair and sorting their weapons. Since I was getting paid to do this work, I found it more enjoyable than my chores at the restaurant. Besides, I could freely listen to music on my headphones as I worked, humming along with showtunes and other songs as I swept the floor, cleaned knives, or sorted their vast movie collection (most of which still had rental store labels on them).
One day, I got a text from Rocksteady asking if I wanted to hang out for a couple hours and eat lunch. I agreed, figuring I would still have chores to do; while Rocksteady usually used the words 'hang out,' I never really got to relax and sit around. Bebop always made sure I was doing some job, and once there weren't any more to do, he'd drive me back to my neighborhood. So, when I made my way over to the spot where Bebop would pick me up, I was already planning on listening to some Stephen Sondheim as I cleaned.
"Hey, bud!" I looked up to see Rocksteady instead of Bebop in the driver's seat, grinning at me. "C'mon! Let's get goin'!"
"Hey, Rock," I replied, climbing into the passenger's seat. "You sure seem happy today."
"Sure am," he agreed, a wide smile on his face. "It's my birthday!"
I blinked with surprise, not expecting this piece of news.
"Oh... Congratulations," I said awkwardly; I wasn't used to adults being so excited for their birthday, and I suddenly hoped that he hadn't expected me to bring a present. "H-How old are-"
"Thirty-two," he said proudly, putting the van into drive and pulling out of the alleyway. "July 19th, 1984!"
"Wow. That's great, man," I replied, still hoping that he wouldn't ask me where his present was. "Is that why you wanted to hang out today?"
"Yep! We're gonna pick up some pizza first; I always get pizza on my birthday!"
"That's nic-"
"And beer," he added. "Though don't worry; we'll get some soda for ya."
"Thanks."
I had never seen Rocksteady look so happy; he wouldn't stop smiling as he drove me to a pizza place to pick up their order, and then to a convenience store to get some soda. Seeing how happy he was made me feel even worse about not having a gift, so I grabbed one of those giant novelty candy bars that was the length of my forearm. He seemed to like it, and it only made him more excited, and he spent the trip to the warehouse talking about his past birthdays.
"Year before we became mutants, I decided to try and see how much free stuff I could get," he told me as he parked the car so he could pull open the garage-sized door. "Some places give out free food and stuff if it's your birthday, so I wanted to see how much I could get. Turns out, ya needed an e-mail or somethin' to get the free stuff, so Bebop and I ended up robbin' a couple ATM's and then bought one of those party packs from this taco place."
"Sounds... nice," I muttered, taking the pizzas out of the back of the van. They were quite a few boxes, even by mutant standards, but I figured they'd gotten extra in the spirit of the occasion. "But at least none of the food this year is stolen."
"Well, the beer probably is," Rocksteady replied, getting back into the van and driving it into the warehouse. I walked after him, stepping into the shadow of the lair.
"You stole beer," I asked, frowning a little.
"Nah, Groundchuck and Dirtbag are bringin' it," the mutant thug replied, parking the van in its spot. "I mean, they probably stole it; dunno how else they could've gotten it."
"Groun-" I stopped mid-step, the rhino's words registering in my brain. "Wait, who are-"
"About time you got here, pardner!"
"Yeah! We saved ya a beer!"
To my credit, I didn't drop any of the pizzas, though they did wobble a bit as I spotted who had spoken. My legs nearly buckled, and I let out a somewhat loud, strangled gasp.
The two mutants walked over to Rocksteady, greeting him like close friends. The one closest to me was around Bebop's height, and seemed to be a grey-furred rodent of some kind. He had a snout, a long tail, somewhat beady eyes, and very sharp teeth. But, more bizarre than his mutant-ness were his clothes; he wore a plain t-shirt, dark green overalls, and what appeared to be a miner's hat on his head. The small shovel, pickaxe, and length of rope he had hanging from his utility belt confirmed that he seemed to be a fan of digging, and I wondered if he was mutated with some kind of animal that dug.
The other mutant was closer to Rocksteady's height, and I could instantly tell that he was a bull mutant. He had reddish-brown fur, a horned head, and hooved feet. He was dressed in more normal clothes: jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a jean jacket, though he also wore a large belt buckle shaped like a horseshoe. Add that to the bandanna tied around his neck, and I was reminded of a cowboy from one of those old movies; I figured the only reason he wasn't wearing a cowboy hat was because of his horns. And speaking of his head, he had green hair for some reason, though it wasn't styled like Bebop's.
"Chuck," Rocksteady said happily. "Digger! When'd ya both get here?!"
"'Bout five minutes ago," the mutant bull replied, and I noticed that he had a very distinct Southern accent; my idea of a cowboy was further intensified. "Bebop told us you'd be back with pizza."
"We brought some beer," the other mutant added, his voice having a very distinct Jersey accent. "Friend of ours hooked us up, so there's plenty to go around! Happy Birthday, man!"
"Ya guys are the best," the mutant rhino said, grinning at the two mutants. "And we've got the pizza right here!" He slapped a hand on my shoulder, nearly making me drop the pizza again. "Oh yeah, this here's Roberto; he's been helpin' Bebop and I with some stuff. Roberto, this is Groundchuck and Dirtbag!"
The two mutants turned to me, surprised expressions on their faces. I figured that they weren't expecting anyone else, especially a teenaged human, to show up. Wracking my brains, I couldn't recall Rocksteady or Bebop ever mentioning having mutant friends (or any friends at all), and the sudden shock of meeting Groundchuck and Dirtbag both startled and scared me. One reason being that, despite being on friendly terms with Bebop and Rocksteady, they were still criminals; the only other associate I knew of theirs was Loco Luis, it was safe to assume that these new mutants were probably criminals as well.
"You must be pullin' our legs, Rock," Groundchuck said, stooping forward to be eye level with me. "This young'un here's been helpin' you two?"
"Looks kinda shrimpy to me," Dirtbag added, sniffing the air a little. "Also smells kinda funny."
"H-H-Hi," I stammered, too nervous and scared to be offended.
"I told Rocks not to invite him," a voice spoke up, and we turned to see Bebop sitting on one of the couches, a slight frown on his face. "But he insisted, so whatever."
"I can leave," I said quickly, but Rocksteady's hand was still on my shoulder, keeping me from leaving.
"It's my birthday," the mutant rhino reminded his friend, frowning for the first time that day.
"Well," the mutant bull said, straightening back up, "I don't mind either." He grinned, sticking out a hand for me to shake. "Howdy-do to you, Roberto!" He pronounced my name like 'Row-bear-toe,' and I had to briefly balance all eight pizza boxes on one hand so I could shake his.
"I guess I don't mind much either," Dirtbag said, not shaking my hand, though he smiled a little. He seemed the more chill and laid-back of the two, though I still couldn't tell what kind of mutant he was supposed to be. Noticing me staring at him, he sighed a little, as if he'd gone through this many times in the past. "I'm a mole."
"OH," I said, quickly nodding in reply. "Y-Yeah, that would explain the... the dirt and... all that." I quickly cleared my throat. "Where should I put these?"
"Coffee table," Rocksteady replied.
I followed the mutants and Rocksteady helped me put the pizza boxes on the table as the others sat down. I joined them, sitting across from Groundchuck and Dirtbag, just to be safe. I was curious about them and wanted to ask them questions about who they were but didn't dare to, so I kept quiet while the mutants spoke to each other, catching up on how each respective duo had been doing. Bebop spoke on how he and Rocksteady were now a solo act and answered only to themselves, while Groundchuck mentioned how he and Dirtbag were doing well for themselves in New Jersey. They also appeared to be criminals, mentioning a successful heist from a couple weeks prior. I continued to eat my pizza quietly as the four talked about recent jobs they had pulled, until Groundchuck suddenly turned to me.
"So," he said, "what kinda messes do these two wrangle you into? You their lookout or somethin'?"
Bebop snorted, and I couldn't help but frown at him. I swallowed my bite of pizza, hoping that I could quickly talk and then exit the conversation. I was about to reply that I wasnt their lookout and instead did other things for them, but Rocksteady spoke before I could.
"He's kinda like our delivery boy," he said, briefly blowing on a slice of pizza before taking a bite. "Mainly food stuff; his family owns a restaurant in the Heights. Ya oughta try it sometime!"
"Depends on what kinda food," Dirtbag said, opening another pizza box and looking at its contents.
"Puerto Rican, since his family's from there. And it's some of the best food I've ever eaten!" He took another bite of pizza. "I didn't get any today, since I always have pizza on my birthday, but his family's food's pretty good!" He turned to me. "What's that one dish ya always eat?"
"Carne guisada," I replied, grateful to be talking about subject I knew about. "It's basically a beef stew with-"
"Beef," the mutant bull asked, raising his eyebrows a little.
The blood drained from my face, and my jaw went slack, preventing me from speaking. Bebop, who had been looking bored and sullen since I had gotten there, suddenly perked up.
"I... I-I-I-" I could barely speak, screaming at myself in my mind for being so stupid to mention beef in front of a six-foot-six bull. The mutant just stared at me, and I felt myself starting to sweat as I wondered how long he would sit there before blowing up and attacking me.
"Yeah, that's it," Rocksteady said, oblivious to my horrified expression. "Beef stew with that so... so... Wait, I remember this... Sofrito!" He nudged me with an elbow. "Ya said that's what really seasons the meat, makes it taste really good!"
Please, God, why, I thought, feeling my heart beating in my throat. Why is this happening to me?!
"Heh heh heh," Bebop chuckled to himself, an evil grin on his face.
"Personally, it ain't my favorite," the mutant rhino continued. "But Roberto says it's a restaurant staple that everyone likes!"
"Really... That a fact," Groundchuck said, still looking at me with an unreadable expression. I quickly looked down at the ground, wishing it would swallow me up.
"But it ain't just food," Bebop suddenly spoke up. I quickly looked back up, noting the sinister grin still on his face. "He also helps keep this place clean for us."
"I can tell," Dirtbag said, sniffing the air. "It don't smell as moldy or dusty as it was last time." He turned to me, a slight frown on his face. "It's really clean."
Looks like I'm going to Heaven today, I thought, my fear elevating to a whole new level. Now I had two dangerous mutants angry at me instead of one. Even with Rocksteady there (since Bebop seemed more intent with putting me in harm's way than protecting me), I wasn't sure if he'd be able to fend off two other mutants, one of which had a pickaxe.
"You okay, pardner," Groundchuck suddenly asked, peering at me with a slight frown. "You look like you've stepped on a rattlesnake!"
"I'll say," the mutant warthog commented, snickering a little.
"What've you got to be scared of," Dirtbag asked. "Us?"
Rocksteady laughed, probably thinking that the mutant mole had told a hilarious joke. When no one else laughed with him, he looked down at me, noticing my fearful expression.
"Why're ya scared of them," he asked, a genuinely confused look on his face. "Chuck and Digger are pals of Beeps and me!"
"Some mystery," Bebop quipped.
"I reckon I know," the mutant bull spoke up, still with an unreadable expression on his face. "It's 'cause ya like beef stew, ain't it?"
I felt awkward and scared as four pairs of non-human eyes turned to me, waiting to hear my reply. Bebop especially looked interested, sporting a smug smirk as he no doubt waited for me to embarrass myself. Again, I had no idea if Groundchuck or Dirtbag would attack me with Rocksteady there, but I figured if they were angry enough, they'd be able to overpower the mutant rhino to get to me. Or who knows? This could be the moment that the Turtles had warned me about, when Rocksteady and Bebop would turn on me to save face in front of their fellow mutant criminals. The pressure of them waiting for me to say something was too much, so I simply nodded, bracing myself for whatever was to come.
A few moments later, something did hit me on my back, nearly throwing me out of my seat and knocking the wind out of me. As I gasped for air, a loud noise registered in my ear, and it took me a few seconds to realize it was laughing. Looking up, I saw that all four mutants were roaring with laughter; Rocksteady had slapped a hand on my back, laughing the loudest of them all. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but an odd sense of relief came over me. At least they seemed too distracted and in a good mood to be angry at me, though I knew that their jovial mood wouldn't last. When it did come to an end, Groundchuck was the first to speak.
"If that ain't some of the funniest hooey I've ever heard," the mutant bull said, still chuckling a little. "We may be thieves, but we've still got morals; we ain't never hurt a kid, and we don't plan on hurtin' you!"
"Yeah," Dirtbag added. "We've got better things to do than beat up scared little kids."
"I'm not that little," I muttered, clearing my throat before speaking up. "So you're not annoyed about the stew thing? Or me cleaning stuff?"
"Seein' that I had a couple slices of Supreme pizza, I'd reckon I ain't," Groundchuck said, showing a half-eaten slice on his plate. I hadn't even noticed what kind of pizza he had eaten, and realizing that there was beef on it, I was both relieved and a little disgusted.
"And sure, I like dirt and all that, but it ain't my place to tell people how to keep their living spaces," the mutant mole continued, an indifferent expression on his face. "Though I feel kinda bad trackin' dirt in here; I wasn't expectin' it to be this clean. It's usually "
"Yeah," I agreed. "Bebop can be a real pig!" This brought on more laughter from the others, save the mutant warthog, who looked like he was trying his best to keep from lunging across the food to strangle me. I smiled, feeling slightly bad for getting back at him, though mostly relieved that I wasn't about to get attacked by Groundchuck and Dirtbag. Now, I could ask all the questions I had been thinking about.
"I like this young'un," the mutant bull said when he finally stopped laughing, turning to me. "How'd you get tangled up with these idiots?"
"I resent that," Rocksteady protested in a joking tone before proceeding to tell the other mutants about the misunderstanding that led to me meeting the two thugs. Throughout the story, I noticed Bebop looking more and more annoyed and uncomfortable, which was an unusual combination for the criminal. I had no idea why he seemed upset around his friends, and I wondered if he was still sore from my joke. I doubted it, since I rarely made fun of him, and the rare times I did, he got over it very quickly; plus he had been acting surly ever since Rocksteady and I got here. No, he seemed upset with something else.
"So ya let these two beat ya up," Dirtbag asked me, bringing me back into the conversation. "That took some guts."
I nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I wasn't trying to be brave; I just didn't want to end up in the bottom of the Hudson!"
"Now you two didn't threaten to drown this here boy, did you," Groundchuck asked the mutant rhino and warthog in a disapproving tone. "I mean, I know you two always rustle up trouble and pain wherever you go, but threatenin' to drown a kid? That's goin' a bit too far."
"We didn't threaten to drown him!" the rhino thug protested. "And don't get all morally superior on us, Chuck, 'cuz you both steal stuff and beat up as many people as we do!"
"True, but like Dirtbag said, we don't beat up kids. And we don't keep everythin' we steal."
"What do you mean," I asked.
"We're like that..." Dirtbag frowned. "What's the name of that human? The one with the green outfit and bow and arrow. Lived in the woods or somethin'."
"... Robin Hood," I asked.
"Yeah! Him." The mutant mole smiled wistfully. "Imagine livin' in the woods; all that dirt to dig through..."
"Get your head out of the ground," his friend joked before turning to me. "Long story short: after we got back to Earth after spendin' a few years in Dimension X... Well, it wasn't a few years here on Earth, but time works differently there 'cause science an' stuff."
"Dimension what," I asked, blinking with surprise.
"Ain't that impressive," Bebop muttered somewhat irritably.
"We ended up in another dimension," Dirtbag said nonchalantly.
"Another dimension," I repeated, trying to wrap my head around it. "How... What-"
"I'll tell ya about it sometime."
"Anyhow," the mutant bull continued, "we saw some stuff in there that made us rethink our lives a bit. Dimension X, puttin' it kindly, ain't as nice as Earth. Before, we were all for ourselves, takin' what we needed to survive, as well as what we wanted. After we got back, we decided to try an' be less selfish, an' be better mutants."
"But... you still steal stuff," I asked tentatively, finally tearing my thoughts away from the alternate dimension topic.
"We gotta. I mean, we ain't exactly corporate material. But we now help folks in need as well. There's a few groups of homeless people in Jersey we see on a regular basis; we give 'em food an' clothes 'an stuff. Sometimes, if they need somethin' specific, we'll go steal it for 'em."
"It's pretty easy most of the time," the mutant mole added, holding up his hands. "These claws are strong enough to break through concrete, so diggin' up under buildings is child's play. But I've got these-" He patted the pickaxe and shovel at his side. "-in case I can't get in that easy." He pointed to his hardhat. "This light also doubles as a laser beam."
"Your claws are that strong," I asked, impressed that the mutant was that strong; even Rocksteady couldn't break concrete, as far as I knew. "And your hat can burn through metal?"
"Yeah! But that's nothin'. Chuck's the one with the real cool gear!"
"It ain't that interesting," the Southern-talking mutant said modestly. "Though I will admit, some of the homeless kids we've met get a real kick out of it."
"Out of what," I asked.
The bull mutant shook his head. "Nah, I really shouldn't. 'Sides, I'm dressed too nice for it."
"C'mon, man," Rocksteady said excitedly. "Roberto'll get a kick outta it! Besides..." He grinned. "It is my birthday!"
Groundchuck grinned in return, getting to his feet.
"Okay," he agreed, taking off his jean jacket. "Just this once, though; I only really use it when I'm caught between a rock and a hard place."
I wasn't sure what to expect, but I leaned forward a little in my seat, anxious to see what the mutant bull had for weapons. He didn't have any visible weapons that I could see, so I was curious as to what he could possibly fight with. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Bebop had gotten up from his seat and sulked off towards the sleeping area of the lair, but my attention was soon diverted as Groundchuck touched a metal watch he wore on his wrist.
The metal of his watch dissolved and started to move, becoming liquid-like as it crawled up his arm. Reaching his shoulder, it spread out, covering his chest until it solidified into a chest plate. Another part traveled down to his right leg, completely encasing it in armor. More metal travelled up to his head, covering his right eye and part of the top of his head, including his horn. Finally, a bit of the metal travelled to his left arm, covering his hand with a metallic glove. The whole process took less than five seconds, and the result made the mutant look like a cyborg.
"Qué brutal," I gasped, gaping at the bull mutant's new getup. "How did you...?"
"Nano-technology," he replied, grinning as he tapped the side of his head. His right eye, the one covered with metal plating, now glowed yellow, and I wondered if what he saw through it looked like what Iron Man saw in his helmet. "Picked it up in Dimension X. Dirtbag could've gotten some too, but he prefers his diggin' tools."
"But... that's impossible," I said, standing up and walking over to the mutant to get a better look at the armor. "I mean, this kind of technology doesn't exist!"
"Mutants ain't supposed to be a thing either," Dirtbag reminded me, grabbing another slice of cheese pizza.
"And you bet your biscuits it's real," Groundchuck said, holding out his arm for me to examine. "It packs quite a punch, too; I've got a wrist dart gun, an electric lasso, a-"
"What was that last one," I asked, tentatively touching the metal covering his arm. To my surprise, it seemed to hum underneath my fingers, as if the armor was alive.
"Electric lasso." The mutant bull took a step back, flexing his wrist. A length of flexible, bending metal shot out from beneath the palm of his left hand, coiling into a rope-like loop that he held with both hands. Quickly tying a loop around the end, he held it above his head, spinning it around like a cowboy at a rodeo. He then threw it, snagging it around an empty beer can on the coffee table. Yanking the lasso back, the can flew into the air. Suddenly, an arc of electricity ran up the metal rope, going from the mutant's hand to the can, which was promptly fried and burned to a crisp. The electricity flow was cut off a few seconds later, and Groundchuck whipped the lasso back towards him, catching the now black and charred can with his free hand.
"Feel free to clap now," he said with a grin. "Most folks do after that trick; 'specially the ladies."
"Woah," I said, clapping my hands for a few seconds. "That's amazing!" I turned to Rocksteady. "And you've kept the super cool mutants that've been to another dimension a secret from me?!"
The mutant rhino shrugged. "I figured ya had enough on your plate with knowin' us and the Turtles."
I turned back to the mutant bull. "Did you say you have a dart gun?"
"Ya still have that dart board, if I remember," Dirtbag said to Rocksteady. "Up for some target practice, Chuck?"
Groundchuck grinned. "Always!"
[][][]
No offense to Rocksteady or the Turtles, but Groundchuck and Dirtbag were now my favorite mutants. They were cool, not violent, and despite being criminals, were actually descent people. Or mutants, rather.
I spent the next hour talking with the two mutants, getting to know them better. Both, unlike Bebop and Rocksteady, had been animals before being mutated; Groundchuck had been taken from a ranch in Texas to be sold to a meatpacker in New Jersey, and Dirtbag had been living in a nearby field. Both had accidentally come into contact with the same mutagen that Bebop and Rocksteady had been mutated with, and while I didn't ask, I wondered if that Shredder guy Rocksteady had mentioned in the past was behind it.
They also told me about the people they helped, and their time in Dimension X. However, the coolest part was when Groundchuck let me try out his wrist gun for some target practice. It took some getting used to, and after nearly taking out Rocksteady's eye, I had managed to hit the target at least once. Dirtbag, also wanting to join in, showed off the heat ray on his hardhat by melting a few beer cans from several feet away.
"That was..." I couldn't even finish my sentence as the nanobots covering my right hand returned to their owner.
"Dope," Dirtbag offered. "I dunno; whatever you young kids are sayin' these days."
"I thought it was lit," Rocksteady cut in.
"I'll stick with cool," I said.
"Not bad, pardner," Groundchuck told me. "I reckon if ya keep tryin', you'd be able to shoot the feathers off a buzzard someday!"
"Thanks," I replied, grinning at the mutant before checking my watch; thankfully I still had a little over an hour before I had to be back at the restaurant. "Gotta use the restroom real quick; be right back."
I left the three mutants, who continued to talk loudly and boisterously as I made my way towards the bathroom situated near Bebop and Rocksteady's living area. A few minutes later, I was closing the door behind me when I heard someone speak up from my left.
"Havin' fun, are ya?"
I turned towards the mutant thugs' sleeping area to find Bebop leaning against the nearby wall, arms crossed and a frown on his face. Only then did I realize that he had been absent for quite a while from the activities with the other mutants and I.
"Have you been back here the whole time," I asked.
"It's my place," the mutant warthog reminded me, snorting a little. "And I ain't hidin' out back here."
"I... never said you were," I started to say.
"Look, go back and have fun, why don't ya," the thug snapped, straightening up and walking over to his bed, grabbing a nearby beer can before sitting down on the mattress. "I'll wait for all the happy-bubbly bullshit to die down."
I blinked with surprise. "... You mean your best friend's birthday party?" I shook my head a little. "I get that you're a little..."
Bebop frowned at me. "Careful, 'pardner.'" He said the last word in a thick Southern accent, no doubt making fun of Groundchuck.
I frowned, starting to think I understood the mutant's attitude. His earlier annoyance when I first arrived... I thought that had something to do with me (and it probably was, in some aspect). But what if there was something else to it? Something with nanotech armor and a headlamp that could burn through solid metal.
"You don't like Groundchuck and Dirtbag," I asked, briefly glancing back at the two mutants, who were some 100 yards away and still chatting it up and drinking beer with Rocksteady.
The mutant sighed in reply, finishing the rest of his beer. "Circle hits the square."
"Why? They're mutants, just like you, and criminals."
"Ha! Some criminals," the warthog thug said, no doubt rolling his eyes behind his glasses. "Helpin' people in need like Robin Hood? Does Jersey look like the damn woods to ya?"
"So you don't like them because, despite still robbing places and beating people up, they... help homeless people," I asked incredulously. "That's a bit... I mean..." I shook my head. "No way that's the reason. Sure, you're pretty selfish most of the time-"
"Most of the time," Bebop growled, crushing the empty can in his hand.
"-but even you can't be that cold-hearted," I continued. "I mean, you and Rocksteady were both homeless growing up, so the thought that-"
"Shut it," the mutant criminal ordered, slamming his fist on his bed next to him, nostrils flaring. He wasn't loud enough to make his voice echo through the warehouse, but still loud enough to make me jump. The warthog got to his feet, quickly walking over to me until he towered right over me. I fought the urge to take a step back, holding onto the faint hope that Rocksteady, Groundchuck and Dirtbag would intervene should Bebop try to hurt me. Then, the mutant did something unexpected and took off his glasses, allowing me to see his eyes glaring at me.
"First, never talk about me or Rock bein' homeless," Bebop said, teeth bared in an angry snarl. "Second, whether I like those two self-righteous mutants or not ain't none of your business! It's my best friend's birthday, so whatever he says goes! Even if he wants to hang out with a pair of mutants that are supposedly better crooks than us, with their fancy Dimension Whatever shit and actin' like they're better people just 'cause they don't keep every single thing they steal-"
The mutant warthog abrutply cut off his tirade, breathing heavily. He took a step back from me, thankfully giving me some breathing room, looking at nothing in particular. I didn't say a word, knowing that he had said more than he had intended to, and figuring that silent would be prudent at this point in time. Finally, after a few moments of awkward silence, he looked back down at me with a scary yet seriuos expression.
"But I think, despite what he wants, ya should probably get goin'," he said, and I noticed he was tapping his foot ever so slightly. "You're a kid hangin' out with grown ups. Bad ones. Go do somethin' normal for someone your age." His frown returned, and he pointed a warning finger at me. "Though if ya breathe a word of what I said to Rock..."
"I won't," I said quickly. "Honest."
Bebop looked at me for a few moments before snorting and turning away, putting his sunglasses back on as he walked back over to his bed. Figuring that it was best for me to go, I turned and walked away, heading back towards the other three mutants. I was quickly thinking of what I should say, and by the time I reached Rocksteady, I had it figured out.
"Hey guys. Is it okay if I leave now," I asked him. "I know I don't have to be back home yet, but-"
"Ya wanna leave," the mutant rhino asked, looking down at me with a confused and almost hurt expression. "Why? Ain't ya havin' fun?"
"I am," I said quickly. "It's been great, hanging out with you, Groundchuck and Dirtbag." I turned to the mutant bull. "Especially the nanotech."
"Think nuthin' of it," the bull replied. "Hey, if ya ever wanna hang out again, just let Rocky know!"
"Or ya could come to Jersey sometime," the mutant mole offered. "Even if ya don't wanna help out with those homeless folks, there's this donut shop near our hideout; every night aftrr closing, the owner gives us a bunch of the donuts that they didn't sell."
"Thanks," I replied, smiling as I genuinely considered the offer. However, I was soon reminded of Bebop's words. "I'll be sure to let him know." I turned back to Rocksteady. "I'm sorry to leave your party early, but know it's not because I didn't have a fun time." I smiled. "It's been one of the more entertaining parties I've ever been to." This part was true; even with the fancy and elaborate wedding and quinceañera parties I had been to, this small get-together with pizza and mutant criminals had been the most fun for me.
Rocksteady grinned. "Great! And it's fine if ya leave; I'll give ya a ride." He turned to Groundchuck and Dirtbag. "I'll be back in twenty; don't drink all that beer while I'm gone!"
"Not on your life, pardner," the mutant bull said, picking up another can and popping open the tab with one of his horns. "Though ya know us Southerners sure love to party!"
"I'll bury a couple six packs for ya," the mutant mole offered.
"Be back in a bit," the rhino said, taking the van keys from his pocket. He looked over Dirtbag's head, looking towards where Bebop was; the mutant warthog had left the sleeping area, wandering back towards our group. "Beeps! I'm takin' Roberto home!"
"Okay," the mutant warthog called back, putting on a bright smile. "We'll wait for ya!" He briefly looked at me, but said nothing, walking over to the coffee table and grabbing some pizza from the box. I nodded at him, said goodbye to Groundchuck and Dirtbag, then followed Rocksteady, who had opened the garage door before heading to the van.
"And don't worry about me bein' drunk," the mutant said as he climbed into the driver's seat. "It takes a lot for me to get hammered, which is why I didn't drink as much as I usually did earlier, since I knew ya had to go home at some point."
"I can't imagine your hangovers being pleasant," I said.
He nodded, a somber expression coming onto his face. "Yeah... Not real pleasant. Maybe I oughta cut it back this year..." His grin soon returned. "But I'll get ya back to the restaurant now! Thanks for comin' to my party; it was great, havin' ya there! I ain't had that much fun in a while, even with ya nearly shootin' my eye out!"
I laughed. "That was an accident!"
"Sure, sure," he joked, putting the car in drive and backing out of the warehouse. "Though next year's gonna be even better!"
I can't wait, I thought, smiling to myself.
And that's it for this chapter! Like I said at the beginning, this was a fun chapter to write! It was entertaining, introducing Groundchuck and Dirtbag as friends of Rocksteady, and now Roberto, as well as coming up with unique backstories and personality traits for them, since this story takes place in my own unique TMNT universe.
Feel free to leave a review, and please follow/favorite if you'd like to see what happens next! Have a great week, everyone! See you next time!
-aggiefrogger